Fuck Valentine's Day. It's really no fun without my boy-toy. But hey...we can make any day V-day when we're together. I can buy him chocolate and thongs any day. V-Day is just an excuse for middle-aged old men to have a chance to get some booty from their wives. That one day of the year. Poor fellas.
But still...I work tonight and it'll be hard to see all these couples buy condoms and...condoms. And also...condoms. Maybe some body chocolate (yes, Walgreens does sell that). Dammit.
But still...I work tonight and it'll be hard to see all these couples buy condoms and...condoms. And also...condoms. Maybe some body chocolate (yes, Walgreens does sell that). Dammit.
Although, while middle aged men all over the country are trying to get some booty from their wives, it's interesting to see how "romantic' they are. Or aren't. Most of them can't think outside of flowers and candy. They just want the booty. It's strange to watch all these middle-aged men walk down the streets with flowers, wondering if that's *all* they've got in store for that special someone in their lives. I almost feel sorry for all those poor middle-aged women, who are desperately hoping their husbands will finally GET IT and really sweep them off their feet.
But mostly I think Portishead is fucking cool.
On the flipside of that, I wonder what men in the middle ages got their wives for valentines day.
3 weeks till NOLA woohoo!